Proper Education

Hey everyone! I’m Alyson Noël, the author of Faking 19, Art Geeks and Prom Queens, Laguna Cove, Fly Me to the Moon, and the upcoming Kiss & Blog (May 07) and Saving Zoë (September 07). I’ve lived in both Mykonos and Manhattan, only to come full circle and end up right back in the OC, where I was born and raised (and where most of my books take place)!

I’ve just started writing my latest book, the one I call, Untitled #7, when I realized I’ve yet to write a book about summer. Which, when you consider how much I love summer, how I practically live for summer, and how most of my books take place in the OC, which is known for its summers, well, it just doesn’t make any sense. But somehow I always focus on the school year, and to be honest, I pretty much hated the school year.

Hate’s a strong word, I know. That’s why I chose it. Because it sums up, in one crisp syllable, just how I felt about my junior and senior years. Suffocated, bored, apathetic, and disinterested— would also work. Though, like Alex in Faking 19, I wasn’t always that way. I started out well enough with a stint in student government, a host of clubs, and a full schedule of AP classes that kept me somewhat interested.

Then, somewhere around junior year-- I. Just. Stopped. Caring.

Some of it had to do with trouble at home, but most of it had to do with my habit of sneaking off campus so I could hang in L.A.—a place where everything seemed so glamorous and exciting, a place that made my small town seem so small time.

But the one class I never cut was AP English. I had the same teacher both years, and I respected and admired him way too much to ditch. Mr. Sawaya played jazz records, encouraged discussion and debate, he respected our opinions, and he made learning fun. He was the kind of teacher former students kept in touch with and came back to visit.

So when it came time to write the acknowledgments in my debut novel, Faking 19, he was the second person I thanked (right after my mom!). Because little did he know, but the day he read one of my short stories to the class, everything changed. With that one small act I went from feeling lost and unsure, to thinking there just might be a place for me after all. And I wanted him to know he made a difference.

A year ago I visited the school, spoke to his classes, and he took me to lunch. And I’ll never forget how it felt to return to that campus and discover it wasn’t the malevolent place I’d once thought. Sure there were probably cliques, heartbreak, and drama, it’s all part of the process. But I realized that even though I lived for the summers, it was the school year that formed and shaped me the most.

So what about you- did you have a teacher who made a difference- a favorite class- one you would never dream of ditching even if you wouldn’t get caught?

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